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I met her down at Marylin's grave
Lookin' like an S & M slave
Drinkin' like a fool
With a prison tattoo on her cheek
Well I knew that we would never last
Cuz we were runnin' from our criminal past
But none of that mattered
I was high and she was flattered by me
I had wine and 2-gram lines
To get inside her head
There was no need for roses
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